Lan Zhan POV
Lan Zhan made his way towards the sounds of metal upon metal, at first excited. Nothing beat the thrill of fighting, especially against a worthy opponent, although these days, it was only XiChen who matched him in skill.
The crowds thinned out and he saw ahead of him, a green field, filled with cultivators young and old. As the scent of freshly cut grass entered his senses, providing much needed calm, he saw a sign.
Sword competition, it read.
Perhaps he would find his brother here. Anxiously, he looked around, searching for XiChen. Bichen in one hand, and the pink lotus in his other, his thumb caressing the fragile petals, soft and smooth to the touch.
He had no interest in the competition itself; not out of arrogance, for that was forbidden, but it would simply be a waste of his time. He had grown up fighting and training against the best swordsmen of Gusu, until now becoming the undisputed champion of them all. His heart thirsted for a new challenge, someone who could make him think while fighting.
He missed the duality of swordplay whilst simultaneously predicting secondary moves from his challengers, trying to outwit them on a mental field of combat too. These days he was winning fights almost with his eyes closed. And, he was bored of it.
Lan Zhan knew XiChen worried about him. XiChen thought Lan Zhan should socialize more, make friends that were his own age, try to develop interests beyond reading and music. But Lan Zhan loved reading and playing. If he had a choice, he would always pick from these two activities. But, XiChen often told him it was important to have fun, too.
Lan Zhan had trouble figuring this out. He had his bunnies. Did that count?
Uncle Qiren had always reinforced the value of their rules. This made sense to Lan Zhan; it was the difference between animals and mankind. Rules kept you from making mistakes. Rules saved you. And there was always a rule ready to guide you. Rules were safe.
With relief, he saw a white arm waving at him, and he calmly walked towards his brother.
"Didi, this is the organiser of this sword competition." XiChen introduced them.
Lan Zhan bowed, wondering why they were there. Wasn't it time to go home? And then he remembered why he had come here. He wanted to find that silver eyed dancer...
"So do you agree?" His brother was saying.
Lan Zhan looked back at him, realizing that he had been looking for a glimpse of red and black among the sea of browns and greys. In his distraction, he had totally missed this conversation. His confusion must have shown, because XiChen smiled kindly at him, and repeated what he had said.
"In order to encourage contestants to sign up, the organiser has asked if you will help. As you can see, many people are here, but those that have committed number less than ten. He thinks perhaps if we say that you will fight the winner in a friendly duel at the end, it would provide the much needed incentive."
XiChen looked calm while he spoke, but his eyes were begging him to agree.
Perhaps the mysterious dancer would return, Lan Zhan hoped, pondering on whether to stay. And why did XiChen want him to agree so much? Was this something else he wouldn't understand? Was it because he thought Lan Zhan would have fun? Here?
So he found himself agreeing reluctantly.
XiChen beamed at him and delightedly started discussing arrangements with the other man. They walked towards the stage.
Lan Zhan could feel his feet dragging, his eyes roaming the field, hoping to spot the wonderful man. He could see him dancing in his mind, those moves ever alive as he stole his thoughts. The swirl of red and black swathes of fabric following the dancer's feet, surreal and otherworldly. Who was that man?
He remembered the silver eyes, mercurial in their shifting between sly mischief and concentration. Lan Zhan shivered involuntarily. He had not imagined their connection. And the dancer had winked at him. Lan Zhan felt terribly hot then, his heart beating faster.
His dancer was a work of art, sublime, graceful, mesmerising.
And yet, he had vanished like perfume on a breeze.
Lan Zhan could feel his heart aching. He had never felt like this before. It was not to be found among the many books he liked to read, or whilst playing his beloved guqin. Nor to be found whilst walking the extended grounds of Cloud Recesses, within the mountains and waterfalls. And just a splash of this feeling when he visited his bunnies. So what was happening to him?
All he knew was that he would give anything to be able to see that man again.
He climbed the steps of the stage in anticipation. Would this elevated height show him what his eyes wished for? He scanned the crowds, listening to his heart beating almost painfully loud, searching for him.
They announced his name.
XiChen pushed him forward, and he sighed internally. Was this just another attempt by his brother to get him to be more sociable?
Already, he had no wish, save one, to be here. There were too many people for his comfort, too many smells fighting for dominance in his mind, too many stimulations, too much...everything.
The crowds cheered, increasing the noises threatening to overwhelm him. Once they heard his name, they were not to be silenced, chorusing his title amid whoops and yells. Somewhere, someone began beating a drum, and his heart took up the rhythm, faster and faster until he fought to breathe, until...until he heard one voice.
"Hanguang Jun."
The silky voice, at once husky but light, filled with excitement and anticipation, caressed his ears and he turned to look.
A young man was walking towards him. His feet were light and fast, as if he could not reach him fast enough. As he got closer, Lan Zhan could smell the sweetest scent of lotus flowers, reminding him of blue skies and the kisses of the sun.
He wore plain light green robes, ordinary and commonplace, yet there was something about him. He wore his long hair high up in a ponytail, tied with a gorgeous grey.......no, red ribbon, fluttering behind him.
Lan Zhan checked himself. Was he so anxiously awaiting the chance to meet his dancer, that he was imagining things that weren't there? This was not his dancer. This youth looked far too undisciplined, too rough, too uncultured. It was in the way he strode forward, full of arrogance and mischief.
The youth came closer, and Lan Zhan could not look away.
"Where do I sign up?" He yelled. His silver eyes glinted with mirth.
That voice.
It did things to Lan Zhan's insides. He shivered in an excitement of his own, anticipation flooding his veins. The delectable scent of lotus flowers was so much stronger now, and then Lan Zhan looked at his mouth.
Ruby red lips smirked at him, causing his heart to stutter. Heat rose like a slow fire in his belly and then...then he noticed the mole.
Lan Zhan wanted to bite it.
No.
Lan Zhan forced himself to look away. He reminded himself of another figure, graceful and vibrant, elegant and agile. Where was his dancer now?
"Didi?" XiChen looked at him, coming closer. "Are you alright?"
Lan Zhan's ears were a bright red, the only indication that he was uncomfortable. XiChen took his temperature discreetly, wondering why he looked so hot. He happened to turn, seeing that his brother was staring across the sea of people, searching.
"Didi?" He said again.
"Brother." Reluctantly, golden eyes met his slightly darker ones.
"Oh, you're brothers!" The youth behind them exclaimed, his voice filled mysteriously with relief.
Lan Zhan glanced at him again. His voice was beautiful. But it was a shame that it belonged to one so uncouth.
Rule #43 Do not interrupt.
This young man looked as if he would not recognise a rule if it came up to him and slapped his face. He knew with a certainty lodged within his heart, that his dancer was a man of culture.
It took discipline to dance. In fact, much like swordplay, hours of practice were needed to successfully coordinate one's body to reach that level of perfection. Control over mind and body, to keep practicing the same moves over and over again, to fight that natural fatigue, the resistance of muscles. His dancer must have trained for hours. He felt proud of him already.
Where was the beautiful man, a vision of brightness and joy, where was he?
Lan Zhan sighed and turned back to face his brother, who was looking at him worriedly now.
"What was Brother saying?"
"Are you alright? You seem...distracted." XiChen thought this was already odd behaviour from his baby brother.
But Lan Zhan was still thinking about his stranger, the mysterious dancer.
XiChen was speaking to the young man now.
"What is your cultivation level, may I ask?" His tone was polite, just a touch of curiosity.
"I'm the best student in our clan." The young man was saying.
Lan Zhan was brought out of his thoughts by the sheer confidence in his voice. He looked at the young man now, assessing him.
"Are you sure?" XiChen asked him, doubtfully. "You understand that even if you defeat all these people," he gestured to the growing line of contestants forming to their left, "that you will have to face my brother. He is undefeated."
"Yet." The youth replied, cockiness exuding from every pore.
"I'm sorry?" XiChen thought he must have heard wrong.
"I'm just finishing your incomplete sentence." The young man informed them, seeing he had Lan Zhan's full attention. He winked at him and continued. "You said, he's undefeated, but you forgot to add yet." He twirled his sword.
It was both sexy and provocative.
Lan Zhan swallowed hard, willing himself to calm down. This was not his dancer. Just a mere imitation of the man he really wanted.
And if this youth was going to make the mistake of underestimating his sword skill, Lan Zhan was more than ready to teach him a lesson. Bichen would not go easy on this cocky man. There would be a price to pay for breaking so many rules. He could name six just off the top of his head:
#43 do not interrupt others
#72 one shall not indulge in arrogance
#453 one should not be overconfident
#763 correct behaviour must be observed
#643 one must be polite at all times
#892 one must never assume anything.
It was that last one that had him clutching Bichen firmly.
"Oh, I assure you, I did not forget." Xichen led him by his arm to the front of the queue. "Write his name down first, please."
Lan Zhan had followed unwillingly, helpless to leave him. Them, he told himself angrily. Them.
"What is your name?" XiChen asked the young man.
"My name? Why, it's Suibian."